The Style of Emily Dickinson

Our lives are Swiss, so still, so cool –
Nothing ever happens –
‘Till Sun sets on our Afternoon,
And tree too far from apple.

‘Till frosts return to broken bones
We do not stop to wonder.
In heat of midday, flowered gaze,
We hear no Sign of Thunder.

This is my sad, sad attempt to channel Emily Dickinson and use the common meter and some of her other stylistic quirks in response to the dVerse Poets prompt tonight. The first line (the only good one here) is indeed from one of her poems, which you can read here. I think this proves that trying to imitate poets you admire is not the sincerest form of flattery but – in my case, at least – sheer insanity!

21 thoughts on “The Style of Emily Dickinson”

  1. Oh, I couldn’t have done nearly so well as you did, Marina Sofia. I like Dickenson’s work a lot, so it was lovely to see your homage here. And I really like your reflection on how it is as we age…

  2. Interesting to read that the first line is from one of Emily Dickinson’s poems! I would not have guessed that. I think you worked the form very well, including using the capitalized words within. I like this poem. Don’t sell your effort short.

  3. Ha ha, I have visited Switzerland many times as it was a favorite holiday resort for my parents when I was a teenager and it is true that it has a reputation for being a place where nothing happens, doesn’t it? It has numerous redeeming features though such as stunning landscapes cheese and chocolate. Do not berate your poem though. I think you did well.

  4. Oh, my goodness–you ave nothing to apologize for, Marina. This spoke loudly to me as I lived in the Jura, the French Alps. I will never forget the chill of those ice storms that seem to settle in one’s person–and, for me at least–that was the mood you caught here.

  5. There is something to be said of trying. I balked from the beginning, so. I think I need a swiss life, still and cool. Then again, I am heading on vacation tonight so perhaps I will get to enjoy some nothing happening time. Ha.

  6. Some of ED’s poems were only two quatrains, so hey, you’re right on the money here. You move comfortably within the form. So pop those chest buttons, cuz you did good.

  7. Emily
    cold dark room
    no human connections..
    and now people
    sing her song..
    without melody..
    she writes
    Art starts
    with dark
    now Art
    knowing future
    Now Light..
    imagine.. not even
    Emily’s dreams will
    this reality..
    still ALIVE another
    century.. A FORCE..
    darkness sings..
    song without
    die easy..
    there is a now
    i cry for Vincent
    Van Gogh.. some nows..
    shoe not fitting.. too tight..
    some nows..
    goes on..:)

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